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Contemporary Poetry

The Lady in Black

  The Lady in Black Hauntingly beautiful The lady in black Exotic, ethereal, enchanting Floats along the grass dance floor Effortlessly, in the moment   Head erect, Chisled features A statue come alive Ballroom  style Waifting on clouds As Beatle’s music mesmerizes On the soft summer night   Dancing carefree The lady in black In a closely packed arena Amid families, Singing, laughing, dancing No one notices, Yet everyone sees   The Lady in Black Arms raised, ballerina style Deftly, elegantly flowing Gliding...

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Ping-Ping!!

  I can hear your voice in my head. The gentle click, click, clicking Strumming away on my phone No discernible pattern evident   Ping, ping:  I love you! Ping, ping: Don’t you love the closeness, The deliciousness Of this  moment?   Pendulating, waning… Vanishing words Setting up the zig, Waiting for the zag The bubble of green …or blue Flashing like a ping pong ball In the volley of our lives   Ping, ping:  Just moved left Ping, ping:   Coming back the other way Ping, ping:  The white screen punctured Waxing...

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Relic Fragile Now

A smorgasbord of early tastes and obsessions Embodied in small scale objects Preserved in -tact, And created from scratch Elitist snobbery, Everything  larger, grander, grosser Deceptions, contradictions, Empty ethical calories Transported to window-shops and dumped And versions of itself mirrored and encased to form right angles Pleasing everybody but going nowhere    

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Barricade Stormer

Over tops of pointed thorns daring victory Beyond mistakes by strangers waiting in shadows Not just lives of people but of tossed away odds and ends Hoarded as raw material in fruitful disarray No holding back on life Pure poetry and performance together In a floor to ceiling environment called “life” Destined to reinvent self as a participant Slyly ironic, never quite knowing how sublimation plays out Bringing a new paradigm as vision for the future Wearing his soul on his sleeve!

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Disconnecting

  A slight touch of the hand Light, tingling, A  grain of sand, on a beach Never ending tides stretching out, playing to edges of frothy shore And crapping birds A star studded night soon blanketed by clouds By penetrating fog, torrential rainfall The groan of boats straining To avert obliteration of all connections from night to sand Disconnecting, disengaging life, blinds down Coded in signals indiscernible Entangled in a wretched stew of decomposition and acceptance

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Womb Raiders

  Rolling, thunderous undulating sounds that swirl and bite the way a snake does before the transference of distressed milky womb layers of muted cobwebs decaying in corners without translucence baring the carcass of living intent disturbed by layers spread out on soft sand unfolding in ripples and stirrings of sweet milk trapped, fouled by tethering and suppression into the clouds, dark, unfolding blue gray, spreading thighs, igniting and creeping between sheets of storm clouds baiting itself and swelling from sweat of ashen tincture blown away and forgotten

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Too Busy to Notice

  Straining to unleash the world’s burden An elephant stomping lightly Inflicting an unseen and unfelt presence Flitting, like a moth attracted to a burning light Wings singed and burning, no time to fall Fire of wings carrying scars of a lifetime Of wanting to dance on Dancing with the Stars Of wanting to feel alive like the adventurers on Survivor Instead, Rumblings on a stage, eyes forward And rolling back to avoid contact Flashes of insight like pollinated flowers content And crazy mosquitos, bites that itch and bleed untended Grotesque and disfigured No...

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Surrender

  Withered, distilled to nothing A pulse barely worthy of candlelight Wicks dancing like  Ballerinas, twisting and turning Alive in the burning glow Now stepping treacherously, flopping down Into the pale yellow stillness of the edges of life A moth with wings impinged Delaying the inevitable Disarray, jumbled notes upon a jar, imprecise and clumsy Staggering princesses devining their princes to save them An undeclared holiday from stifling numbness Withered limbs snuffed out by gentle breeze

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Forgiveness

Forgiveness Smooth velvet colors of purple and soul Crystalizing imprints Stripping shellac and filling cracks Caustic erosion of searing heat Erratic pumping of creamy sludge from pores and orifaces Releasing breath,  to touch the scorching sun The sensuality of peace warming The destiny of forgiveness

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Dark Demons Within

  Exploiting the problems of poverty and corruption To gain support A miserable pretext of Patriotism With devastating consequences   A massive surge raging against the middle Worrisome at best Hurled against the fabric of Democracy Perverting a system meant to serve us all Now, held hostage To a new Master   A veritable make or break moment No appearance of impropriety Timing is everything Extremists once licking the fringes Now stirring the boiling pot Dark demons within, at war with democracy

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